I will start out by saying that I woke up feeling like I'd been hit with a very sad stick. Though technically, since I don't sleep, it crept in sometime between 2 and 3am this morning. I theoretically know it's just this lovely PPD demon who will be stopping by frequently, but it's hard to remember that when you're in the thick of it.
Like this morning when I was just trying to find some dark chocolate - ANY dark chocolate so I could face the day - and instead knocked over an entire baby bottle on myself and the floor. It's hard to not have a massive pity party in a moment like that... especially when it turns out there is no dark chocolate anyway.
I'm slowly trying to accept that I have to slow down. I can't do everything I was just starting to be able to do again since the Dude is a little older. The problem is slowing down feels like I'm failing, giving into the darkness that wants me to stop completely And I KNOW that's not what it means, so I don't need "buck up, you're on the Lord's errand!" pep talk, because I get that. I honestly believe that. There are some chemicals in my body that do not, however.
Having a baby really messes with my momentum for two years or so. Even now, going in public with the Dude means being on high alert because he's trying to run into traffic or touch ALL THE THINGS, but I was starting to feel like a real, functioning member of society again. I beat myself up every day that I don't have a piano lesson with WonderGirl, or a violin lesson with the Dude, or manage to make my house not look like it is inhabited by squatters. That's my bare minimum and I can't even manage to do that! I'm a really capable and accomplished woman, so why can't I accomplish things and be capable after having a baby? I know I have no control over this PPD, but it likes to tell me I could if I wasn't such a lameoid.
Darn this junk.